He Was Only An Aprentice To Me
by theflamelord
Summary: He Was Only An Apprentice To Me. That's what he had to tell himself anyway. When he took him in he knew that one day the boy would leave him, and that he would be alone again. He just didn't think it would be like this…


He Was Only An Apprentice To Me.

He Was Only An Apprentice To Me.

That's what he had to tell himself anyway.

When he took him in he knew that one day the boy would leave him, and that he would be alone again. He just didn't think it would be like this…

_Morning_

Hershel always drove him, all the way to Misthallery, He never minded it though, it was nice to see the Tritons and he knew Luke loved see his parents. But this time was different, this time the boy had begged to be allowed to go alone, he had said that he was old enough. After nearly two weeks of protest and an overbooked schedule, Hershel finally allowed Luke to visit his parents by himself

"Goodbye professor, I'll remember all the things you taught me while I'm gone." The boy Beamed up at his mentor, pulling his blue news cap, which was almost just nearly too tight, further down his forehead.

"I should hope Luke, tell your father he needs to call more." He looked over the boy one last time before he departed. Well, he could hardly be called a boy anymore; he had grown to be quite the young man. He remembered when the boy had first come to live with him, unfortunately time does not stand still for anyone, and it was time for the boy to leave, "_not forever though_", he reminded himself, "_just a few weeks_".

"Sure thing Professor!" he said as he boarded the train and took off for his seat, looking out the window they shared one last look as the train slowly pulls from the station. _"5991"_ He didn't know why, but that Train number seemed to jump at him as the train was pulling away. "Idiot," he muttered to himself, noticing such trivial things at a time like this. "Idiot" A word Layton would never be able to call himself, yet it seemed to fit. Letting Luke go off on his own. He should have been on that train with him.

_Night_

It wasn't until that night that Layton was home sitting in his library that it really hit him. He had called up to Luke's bedroom to tell him to wash for dinner, then he realized.

Luke was gone. For the first time in six years Hershel Layton was alone.

His hands began to shake a bit at the thought. He needed to calm his nerves and just rest his mind, but he hadn't kept any alcohol in the house since Luke came to live with him, there was a lot of things that changed when Luke came to live with him. The professor sat up in the winged armchair and stared into the unlit fireplace, trying not to think. For once he was tired of thinking; he didn't want to think. Not anymore. He switched on the radio to try and drift from this world.

Hershel made a pot of tea and caught the tail end of some silly report on a local sports shop being visited by some American Baseball player. He thought about turning the radio off and just cooking dinner when the newslady started the next story.

"_Tragedy struck today as Passenger train 5991"_

**SMASH!**

The teacup smashed against the cold kitchen linoleum.

"_In what is believed to be an act of terrorism the passenger train exploded while on route to Misthallery, While no group has been pinned as possible suspects officials confirm that a bomb was detonated at around 2:30 this afternoon, Causing the train to explode, destroying It and damaging several nearby empty trains, as of yet no survivors have been found."_

No…

It couldn't be true, Hershel let the static noise of the radio to slip by him, unnoticed in his daze, trying not to think of what it meant. But he could… He knew what it meant.

Luke was dead.

Luke was dead, and it was his fault. Every reason began to pour through his head

"_You could have drove him!"_

"_He was to young to go alone!"_

"_You could have made time!"_

Hershel fell to his knees, he was lost. What was he supposed to do now? His godson was dead and it was his fault, He was supposed to drive him to his parents and instead he let him take the train, and now he was gone. The tears began to flow freely from the professor's face, Luke's name burning his throat. He was only 13, just a baby, and now he was gone.

"Clark and Brenda" His thoughts snapped to Luke's parents, Luke was going to surprise them, they had no idea Luke had been on that train, Hershel had to break the news to them. They had expected him to take care of the boy, and he now he had to tell them he let their son die.

Layton dragged himself to the phone and dialed Clark's number.

"Hello?"

"Clark…"

"Hershel! Been a while since I talked to you, how's everything, how's Luke doing?"

"Clark" Layton choked on his own words "Luke's… Luke is dead…"

Silence on both ends…

"No… No… I… He…"

"I'm so sorry." The professor was broken the words barely escaping over his sobs, "He wanted to surprise you and we decided he was old enough to take the train and- and, it was bombed Clark…"

Both sides were silent except for sobs.

"Clark…I—"

"Shut up!" Clark snapped "JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP HERSHEL! AND DON'T EVER SPEAK TO ME AGAIN!"

The receiver clicked as Clark slammed the phone into its holster, Hershel simply fell to the ground, broken, alone, guilty. He sat and thought for hours, or maybe minutes, it all felt the same now, it all felt like lies. Luke was dead, and it was his fault, that was the only truth now. The sun had began to rise before Layton moved again, pulling himself up the stairs to his bedroom, to broken to cry anymore. He collapsed onto the bed and stared at the drawer of his bedside table, the drawer Luke had never been allowed to touch. He only kept one thing in there, and he only kept it incase of a break-in. He never would have imagined he would use it for this. Hershel pulled the drawer open slowly, gazing at the treasure within...

Peace…

He pulled the small silver revolver out of its prison, unlocked the chamber and slid in one bullet, That's all it would take… just one. He slipped the chamber shut with his other hand, he let the weight of the gun force his wrist down wards, still laying down, facing the gun, or facing the world. There was only one option Hershel could live with.

"_Body of famed detective and archeologist Hershel Layton was found inside his London home yesterday with a gunshot wound to the right temple. Officials say it was suicide but will not release any information relating to motive. But we suspect it may involve the 5991 Bombing where the remains of a young boy were identified as Luke Triton, Apprentice and Godson of Professor Layton."_


End file.
